


Celebrating the Leapling

by ggfj84



Series: Reality 23 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Admiral Allura, Alternate Reality, Black Paladin Shiro (Voltron), Gen, Happy Birthday Shiro (Voltron), Not Canon Compliant, Purple Paladin Lotor, Red Paladin Keith (Voltron), at all, black lion - Freeform, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17895944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ggfj84/pseuds/ggfj84
Summary: It's a year without a leap day, but the Paladins won't let that stop them from celebrating Shiro's birthday on the actual day. (Happy Early Birthday, Shiro!)





	Celebrating the Leapling

**Author's Note:**

> Set in Reality 23 – Following the defeat of Sendak on Earth, Allura, admiral of _Atlas,_ heads off into space to rebuild the Voltron Coalition. Along for the mission is the essence of the White Lion, which has merged with the ship; the Voltron lions, headed by Black Paladin Shiro; and the Sincline ships, headed by Lotor.

Shiro awoke to his usual alarm on the wall console near his nightstand. _Atlas_ followed with a digital “Good morning, sir,” along with another phrase which Shiro understood to be an Altean “well wishes” message. He groaned and threw his legs over the side of the bed, giving himself an extra dobash to acknowledge that he had, in fact, made it to his twenty-sixth birthday. 

His mind went to his grandfather, who had woken him up every birthday prior to Shiro’s garrison tenure. Some confetti, a tiny cupcake, and they’d have presents and bigger cake after he got home from school. 

Shiro ignored the ache in his chest and rose to ready for breakfast. Hair dried and styled, pressed uniform on, boots polished—Shiro checked his tablet as he walked through the halls toward the cafeteria. Birthday messages from Matt, Kolivan, and Rynor. Olia sent her regards in Matt’s note, but neither Krolia nor Shay sent theirs. The Holts and Iverson hadn’t sent a message either, but perhaps since they were stationed on _Atlas,_ they wanted to give him their regards in person. 

Keith waited outside the cafeteria, sipping coffee and holding a cup of tea for Shiro, just like every day. 

“Morning,” Shiro greeted, and Keith brightened. 

“Hey, morning, and happy almost birthday.” 

“Ha.” Shiro took his cup and wondered why Keith added the “almost.” There wasn’t a 29th this year, so in that case, Shiro would celebrate on the 28th. 

Before he could ask, Keith launched into his usual morning rundown as the team’s second-in-command. Lotor and his team set out early to collect a certain item, from where Keith didn’t know. Allura approved, and since Sincline wouldn’t be back until late, Captain Rizavi and her MFE squadron were on call, leaving Voltron and the paladins to their usual routine. 

Pidge, Hunk, and Lance were hard at work in their lions’ respective hangers, completing a mediation exercise – “Allura said you don’t need to do it since you’ve already bonded fully with Black, and I did mine earlier” – while Allura had her shift on the bridge and wouldn’t be done until late afternoon. 

“So it’s just the two of us,” which Shiro always enjoyed. Keith was his oldest friend, his best friend, but he just assumed the rest of the team would join them for breakfast. Lunch maybe. Definitely dinner. He checked his tablet one more time, just in case. Yup. It was February 28th. 

“Something wrong?” Keith asked, grabbing a burrito off the cafeteria line and snatching a second one for Shiro. 

Shiro shook himself and found a smile. “No, nothing. Just thought I would have a few more messages this morning, but quiet is good, too.”

“Great. Maybe you’d like to take Black and Red for a race around the Dalterion Belt? And if you’re not too tired after that, we can go a few rounds in the gym, Old Timer.”

Shiro checked his schedule again. Just some late evening duty on the bridge, but suspiciously, his schedule was free. And spending the quintaint with his best friend racing lions and sparring like old times sounded like the perfect birthday. 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he stole a tatter tot form Keith’s plate. 

The day was amazing. Once they got approval from Allura to take the lions, Black and Red headed out into the asteroid belt. When they raced, Keith gave Shiro a run for his GAC. Keith wove about the large boulders while Shiro connected with Black to phase through them. All the while, Keith’s breathless laughter bubbled in Shiro’s ear. He could almost close his eyes and pretend they were back on Earth, racing hoverbikes through the desert landscape.

The brash daredevil who wanted to fly off a cliff after him hadn’t changed all that much, despite Keith’s purple tips and sharpened teeth. Shiro changed, too, now with two-toned hair and a scar across his nose. Perhaps they weren’t the same people they were back on Earth, but today proved they weren’t all that different either. 

They touched down on a nearby planet, one that had been liberated by the Blades during Voltron’s absence from the universe. They walked the stalls of the universal market and found a vendor that sold a dish that looked too much like tacos to pass up. On a shortened wall at the edge of the corridor, they sat and munched away, talking about everything and nothing. 

Eventually, Keith asked, “Do you ever regret it?”

Shiro swallowed a bite and chased it with a sip of bubbled water. “Regret what?”

“Going to Kerberos.”

Shiro took another sip to gather his thoughts and then jerked a shoulder. “No, not really. I regret things I’ve done since. I regret what happened to Sam and Matt and me. Well – and you guys because of it. But I don’t regret the act of going to Kerberos, no. It led me to here.” He hit Keith’s shoulder with his own. “With you. And the paladins, Allura, and everyone. Don’t want to change that.”

Keith’s eyes widened like they always did when someone surprised him, and then he ducked his head. His cheeks were flushed, but Shiro politely ignored it. 

“How about you? Do you regret saving my butt and shooting off the planet in a giant mechanical cat, straight into the middle of an ancient war?”

It was a bit more complicated for Keith, who found his mother among the Galra and also discovered a set of surrogate uncles and aunts in the Blade of Marmora. But it also led to Keith struggling to fly Black, fighting against Lotor and Sincline, eventually accepting them as comrades, and even embracing his role as second-in-command of Voltron. 

Keith furled an eyebrow. “Is Lance still flying in this scenario?”

Shiro let out a loud snort, though Keith added easily and without hesitation. “No, of course not. I’ll follow you anywhere – to the Void and back.”

Right. Shiro had known that, and he threw an arm Keith to draw him close. “Back at you, Red.” 

They sat in silence for a bit, watching the people and enjoying each other’s company. Then Keith pushed off Shiro and disappeared into the marketplace. He returned a few dobashes later with a small cake of some sort and a candle. 

He lit the wick with his bayard. “Happy early birthday.”

“Keith,” Shiro laughed. “My birthday is today.”

“Nope. It’s tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is March 1st.”

“Is it? Huh. Guess I have my calendar wrong. Blow out the candle before the icing melts.”

“You’re not going to sing?”

Keith refused to answer, but after Shiro conceded and blew out the candle, he split the cake in two. It tasted like red velvet with a hint of honey. Not as good as Hunk’s deserts but delicious all the same. 

They returned to _Atlas_ too late to spar, but Keith made Shiro promise they’d do so the next day. As Black touched down in his hanger, sadness pinged Shiro once more. He thought – by some chance – the team might greet him, but instead, it was the hanger crew. While he liked them well enough and would thank them for taking care of Black’s home, he missed the feeling of being with his grandfather and Keith, people who remembered today and wanted to spend it with him. 

Maybe Keith hadn’t told the other paladins? And Matt didn’t tell Pidge? It wasn’t like Shiro told the paladins his birthday nor did he announce it. Perhaps Sam and Mitch were busy with their duties aboard _Atlas_ and didn’t have time to send a simple message. 

With his hands still on the controls, Black purred in the back of his mind. The lion’s delight was palpable, a caress across Shiro’s cheek, along his hip, even a pat of paws upon his shoulders. Shiro smiled despite himself and murmured, “Thanks, Black, for choosing me.”

Another rumble, another wash of love and glee through their bond, and Shiro left Black’s hanger with a jump in his step. 

Allura greeted him on the bridge with a smile, along with well wishes for a lovely night. 

“You won’t be up later?” he asked. “Maybe we can grab dinner?”

“Thank you but no,” she said, turning from the bridge door. “Lance needs my help with Blue. She was a bit jealous this afternoon, so I have to be up early to assure her she has nothing to worry about. Good night, Shiro.”

Right. Well. It wasn’t like he knew Allura’s birthday came around once every quarter, and the next one would be within the new two feebs. Nor had he worked with Colleen to regrow junniberries, but that was unfair. He didn’t do something nice for Allura just for her to return the effort. He wanted to see her smile, and that was its own reward. 

Shiro checked the log to find Iverson had PTO, and Veronica wasn’t scheduled. Coran was off doing maintenance in Black’s hanger, leaving Shiro alone with the bridge crew he knew least. 

Happy birthday to him. 

Shiro was halfway through the evening checks when Lotor and his team returned in the Sincline ships. Shiro gave them clearance, opened the hanger, and completed his eighty-tick sweep of the monitors – not that he was counting – when the bridge doors opened. He was half expecting Keith to walk through, maybe Pidge if she wanted to babble about her latest project. Maybe Lance if he were bored and maybe Hunk if he wanted a taste-tester for his latest recipe. 

Instead, Lotor entered dressed in his garrison-issued uniform, which other than the purple accents, mimicked Shiro’s completely, down to the four bars of a major. He had his hair pulled back in a loose tail and carried a navy velvet bag no bigger than a pouch.

“Shirogane, I heard well wishes are in order.”

Leaning back against _Atlas’_ panel, Shiro crossed his arms and ankles. “Well, thank you, but I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to.”

An inquisitive expression flashed across Lotor’s face. “I was under the impression today was a special milestone for you, another year of your existence. Humans celebrate such quintaints, do they not?”

“You know it’s my birthday?”

Lotor shrugged and stepped onto Altas’ platform. “Kogane mentioned it during a sparring session last feeb.”

“Would have been nice of him to mention it to other people, too.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” Shiro added, then released a sigh. “When is your birthday, Lotor?”

Lotor bowed his head with a tiny, self-depreciating smile and leaned against the console next to Shrio. “Hm. I’m not sure the equivalent to your Earth years, but Commander Holt mentioned ‘August.’ It matters little. I stopped celebrating the quintaint around my six-thousandth.” A shrug. “They all seem to blend into each other, really.”

And Shiro was turning six and half, technically. 

“Here.” Lotor lifted the tiny velvet bag into Shiro’s hand. “This is for you.”

Shiro took the pouch and loosened the string enough to let the necklace fall into his palm. It was a platinum slide pendant in the shape of an eight-pointed star. Each point had an empty setting, except the one on the very bottom, which housed what appeared to be a diamond. Shiro could have mistaken for one, but it pulsated, first with the sky blue glow of Altean magic, then with the purple hue of Galran magic. 

“You…got me a necklace?” Shiro wondered out loud. “Uh, thank you. It’s beautiful.” Not that Shiro wore necklaces, but he appreciated the gesture. 

Lotor’s mouth flattened. “You do not understand, do you?”

“Well, it’s not a ring, but in American culture, you give someone a diamond when you ask them to marry you.” 

Lotor paused, then shrugged. “Similar concept. In Galran culture, family is a loose concept of military regiments. Brothers-in-arms and sisters-in-arms mean more to commanders than blood kin.”

Shiro understood that. Having lost his grandfather before he graduated the garrison, he considered the paladins, as well as the Holts and Iverson, to be his family. 

“When a new family member is accepted in a group, they are given a special item of personal value from the family, to commentate their joining.” With a private smile, Lotor confessed, “I asked Sincline if I might present a piece of his core to you as that token, and he agreed.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped open, and his brain scrambled to catch up. “You’re…accepting me into your family?”

“I already value you as an irreplaceable comrade, and I must admit, I have long thought of you as a _much_ younger brother.”

“I…I don’t understand.” Shiro cringed. “ _Again._ ”

Lotor shrugged, arms crossed now, similar to how Shiro had stood previously. “You inherited my father’s lion, and from the words of Allura and your paladins, I’m convinced you embody the same traits as my father once did. I believe he would have been honored to have you as his successor – if he hadn’t descended into madness.”

Shiro wasn’t sure if he was honored or horrified, but the crystal in his hand made him smile. So luminous and energic, Sincline remined Shiro of a lion cub hopping about the savannah in delight. Shiro reached through his bond to the soothing, ethereal presence of Black, who huffed and caressed Shiro’s hip. He approved without a hint of jealousy or spite.

Shiro lifted the necklace about his head and smiled at it once he lay upon his chest. It appeared unfinished with only one setting filled, and he made a mental note to ask Lotor about it later. 

For now, Shiro straightened and offered Lotor his forearm. It was a greeting between commanders and the leaders of the Voltron Coalition, though in all the time that Voltron and Sincline had called _Atlas_ their home, Shiro didn’t think he’d offered Lotor the embrace once. It was past time he did. 

“Thank you. I will try to remain worthy of your kindness and your father’s legacy – uh, y’know, the one before he conquered ninety-five percent of the known universe.”

Lotor’s smile was genuine as he straightened and accepted. “What is the phrase the Blue Paladin says? ‘Squad goals’?”

It took of Shiro’s strength not to laugh. 

“Now, what can you tell me about this ‘Monsters and Mana’?” Lotor settled upon the bridge’s console. “Zethrid and Ezor seem quite enthralled by it, and I do like to win.”

The prince kept him company the rest of his shift, and they broke after Veronica and an engineer relieved them. Shiro returned to his quarters and showered, changed, and sat down on his bed, staring at the necklace. He thought of his grandfather again, of Black, of Lotor and Zarkon. He thought of Keith and the paladins. Despite missing a celebration with them, he enjoyed the day and looked forward to tomorrow. 

He slept well. 

His alarm clock failed to wake him, and when Shiro rolled over, half asleep and dozing, his eyes shot open. 

8:37 a.m. 

Throwing off his covers, Shiro rushed through brushing his teeth, washing his face, and styling his hair. He managed to brush it well enough to be presentable, if not perfect, but he couldn’t be late to the leadership meeting, every Thursday at nine a.m. with _Atlas’_ commanders, department heads, and her admiral, of course. 

Shiro grabbed his tablet off his nightstand, wondering for the fifteenth time if he slept through his alarm or if Pidge or Hunk had turned it off. But why would they do that? He hadn’t done anything lately to warrant an attack. Okay, so yes, maybe he added food coloring to Pidge’s shampoo, but Pidge still suspected Lance, the last time Shiro checked. 

He hurried from his room, took the elevator to the forty-third deck, and barely avoided one of the Altean pilots when he stepped out. “Oh, uh! Sorry, Tavo. Good morning.”

“Ah, good morning, Shiro, sir. And a happy birth-quintaint to you!”

Shiro turned on his heel, waved, and continued forward, toward the large conference room at the end of the deck. He ignored the nagging in his gut – how would Tavo know his birthday was yesterday? – until an Olkari engineer stopped him at the end of the corridor. 

“Merry harvest, Shiro, sir!”

“Uh…thank…you?”

It was on his sixth greeting – by Ezor – that he replied, “My birthday was yesterday, but thank you for the – ”

“I thought it was today. The 29th?”

“There is no 29th this year. It’s March 1st.”

Ezor looked baffled – except for that mischievous glimmer in the eyes and the tiny twist of her lips. “That’s not what my calendar says.”

Shiro activated his tablet to show Ezor the date and blinked. Right in the middle of the screen, under the time – 9:03 a.m. – was February 29th, not March 1st. 

“Aren’t you late for something, _Major_?” 

Oh, quiznak! 

Shiro smiled his thanks and headed, finding Keith and Lance waiting by the large doors to the conference room. They were required to attend the meetings as his captain and first lieutenant, respectively, but they should have been inside. 

“Guys, what – ” He paused when Keith took his tablet and Lance squirted gel in his hands. He pushed up on his toes and began fixing Shiro’s hair. 

“You should sleep in more often,” Lance laughed. He stepped back and surveyed his work, nodding to himself and then Keith. “All right. I think he’s presentable.”

“He was presentable before,” Keith snapped. 

“Yeah, but now he’s all gelled. And you know Shiro’s swell when he’s got gel.”

Keith narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to ask, but Shiro interrupted him, “Guys, you should be inside. The meeting’s already – ”

As if on cue, Keith and Lance threw open the doors to the large conference room. A resounding “Happy birthday!” overwhelmed Shiro, followed by subsequent pops of confetti shooters. Inside the conference room jammed the paladins, along with Allura and Coran, Lotor and his subordinates, the MFE pilots, Krolia and a few Blades, Shay, Slav, Iverson, Sam, and Colleen. 

Through his shock, Shiro could only muster, “…it’s March 1st.”

“Not to our knowledge,” Allura said, pulling down the elastic band and growing taller to secure a birthday hat on Shiro’s head. “Everywhere else, it may be March 1st, but aboard _Atlas,_ it is February 29th.”

“I don’t think that’s how time works.”

Slav leapt between Allura and Shiro, one of his many fingers pointing at Shiro. “In 357 realities, there is a forty-two-point-three percent chance that there is no February, and for the 29th, there is a sixty-seven percent chance that in other realities –”

“—they’re celebrating just like we are.” Hunk lifted a plate of Shiro’s favorite snack – chocolate-covered Oreos. “Happy birthday, Shiro.”

Shiro didn’t care how undignified he looked at that moment. Surrounded by his family and friends, he shoved the first Oreo in his mouth and mumbled, _“Thanks, Hunk.”_

Bagels and accoutrements lined the table along with native foods from the coalition’s allied planets. Greetings and presents, balloons and streamers decorated the chairs and walls, and upon the monitor flew digital confetti and balloons. Shiro ducked his head, fighting the tears. Krolia’s massive hand cupped his left shoulder, and he was pretty sure that was Iverson’s on his right. 

Once breakfast commenced, Shiro found himself surrounded by the paladins, Allura and Keith bookending him. Pidge stood before him and started poking his chest, ignoring his protests and swats until she found Lotor’s present. With a tug, the pendent popped over his uniform collar. 

“When the Kerberos Mission failure was announced, Mom and I didn’t just lose my dad and Matt. We lost you, too. And you never seemed to get that.”

Shiro dropped an Oreo onto his plate. “Pidge, I –”

Pidge silenced him with the shimmering, brilliant green crystal, which she slipped into the top setting on Shiro’s left. “I can’t remember a holiday without you. You’re my brother, too, and it’s about time you to realize that. Happy birthday.”

Shiro accepted her hug, noticing once more how she fit in the cleft of his shoulder

Over her head, Lance’s blue crystal shimmered. “You were my hero back at the garrison.”

Hunk leaned over to whisper behind his hand, “He had a poster of you on his wall. He saluted it every morning for a _year._ ”

“Really, Hunk? You gotta tell that story _now?”_ Lance groused by then took Shiro’s pendent, placing the blue crystal in the bottom setting on Shiro’s right. “Look, you were my hero then, and you’re my hero now. And you’re more than that, too, y’know? You’re the best person I know. Even Blue thinks so, even though she’s very jealous – _very_ jealous.”

Shiro could just imagine Blue, aloof as Lance tried all his pick-up lines, but he sobered quickly when Lance let out a loud sigh. “Thanks for…y’know, being you. And for believing in me when I didn’t – or anyone else did.”

Shiro stood then and placed both his hands upon Lance’s shoulders, gripping fiercely. “Don’t ever sell yourself short. You are one of the most brilliant pilots and best people I know. You belong here, and so do I. You helped me see that. Thank _you._ ”

Lance sniffed and did a terrible job hiding it, and Shiro drew him close for a hug. 

When they separated, Shiro kept a hand on Lance’s arm as Hunk seized the pendent. His yellow crystal fit perfectly in the bottom setting on Shiro’s left. “Look, I get it’s your birthday, and it’s not polite to tease. But you have horrible cooking skills. I spoke with Slav, and he said you might be able to cook in twenty-three-point-six percent of realities. I doubt that, but I wouldn’t trade you for any of them, any day.”

“Thank you, Hunk. That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, but promise me you won’t go into the kitchen again. Ever. I know you were the one who melted my cookie sheets, and if the fact that I didn’t dress you down for that, doesn’t prove how much I love you, man, I don’t know what will.”

Shiro mocked saluted and then accepted Hunk’s bone-crushing hug. 

Keith edged into his vision then and slipped his red crystal into the top setting on Shiro’s right. “Red wanted me to tell you that if this was anyone but you, he wouldn’t have given a piece of his core. But he likes you, so…” He shrugged and wrapped Shiro in just as strong a hug as Hunk, one that Shiro returned with as much feeling. “And thank you, for always being there for me.”

“What’d we say?” Shiro whispered, just for Keith to hear. “To the Void and back, right? As many times as it takes.”

Coran stepped up next, twisting his mustache and holding a Black crystal. “Here you go, my boy! A piece of Black’s crystal and an authentic Altean birthday greeting!” 

Shiro braced himself for some loud, assaulting shriek or an absurd dance he’d cringe through, but instead, Coran ducked and pulled Shiro into a strong embrace. “You are an amazing paladin and better friend. Alfor, Zarkon, and all the previous paladins would be proud. Many more special quintaints, Number One.”

Allura took Shiro’s hand last, folding her fingers with his. In her opposite hand was her tiara crystal. “I received this from my mother and father when I was born. It comes from the mountains of Althaia and marks the barrier as a member of the Royal House of Calydon.” A gentle kiss upon his cheek sealed the decree. “You are my family, Shiro, and from this day on, Altean Royalty.”

“Thank you, Allura,” he whispered, truly humbled, “but I do not believe I deserve such recognition.”

She shook her head with a knowing smile. “No, Shiro. It is a selfish burden I place upon you. I do not wish to share it alone. Altea lives on in such a precious few – myself, Lotor, Romelle and the colony. And now, it will also live on in you. And we, all the Alteans, are honored to call you one of us. Please accept us as one of your own.” 

First Lotor and the Galra, now Allura and the Alteans, and the humans, the Olkari, the Mer – each crystal upon his star represented a different paladin, a different lion, a different planet and her people. 

“Yes. Of course, Allura.” His voice shook, as did his hand in hers. “I am honored.”

When Allura set her crystal in the center of the pendent, the entire necklace glowed, each stone shimmering a brilliant hue. A whirlwind of energy swirled about him. Pulsating, tangible power rushed under his skin, and it wove through the very fabric of the universe. He felt connected to everything at once, heard the roars of the lions and the heartbeats of the paladins. 

_Atlas_ housed his family, but the universe was his home. 

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> _Omake:_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Lance handed Shiro another present, one wrapped in green paper with a brilliant blue bow. Shiro surveyed the cylinder shape, the familiar weight, and handed the wrapped bottle back to Lance.
> 
> “I think this is for you.”
> 
> “What is it?”
> 
> “Shampoo. Trust me. It’ll do wonders for your hair.”
> 
> “Oh. Thanks, Shiro!”
> 
> Pidge crossed her arms and fumed.


End file.
